


Promises and Preludes

by starry19



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Fix-It
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:13:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24277159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starry19/pseuds/starry19
Summary: "There was no conflict in his gaze. No battle of light versus dark. He was Ben Solo, desperate, broken, bloody.And hers.Poor, lonely Rey of Jakku finally had something to call her own."
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 5
Kudos: 35





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is, obviously, a fix-it fic, wherein we'll see what could have (read: should have) been. Some future chapters likely will carry M ratings, because that's how I roll.

**Chapter One**

She had thought that his face, staring at her in utmost concern and hope and fear, watching as she sat up in his arms, was the most stunning thing she had ever seen in her life. 

He was _here_. He had kept his promise - that she wasn’t alone. And he had braved death on multiple fronts to be at her side. 

There was no conflict in his gaze. No battle of light versus dark. He was Ben Solo, desperate, broken, bloody. 

And hers. 

Poor, lonely Rey of Jakku finally had something to call her own. 

Her fingers gently skated across his cheek, and the change in his face was dramatic. When was the last time someone had touched him with affection? With genuine love? 

He had given her himself. In all ways. Their bond told her what he had done - that the life she felt thundering through her was his. 

She let her eyes follow the path her fingers were taking, let them linger for half a moment on his lips. 

And then she gave in to what every beat of her heart was telling her to do. 

Perhaps he had seen her thoughts through the Force. Perhaps he had read her intentions in the tension of her muscles. Or perhaps he wanted this as much as she did. But he was already reaching for her before her lips even met his. 

The bond _sang_. 

He gathered her closer - finally, _finally_ she was in his arms - and she felt overwhelmed. It was a good sort of overwhelmed. They were alive, he had turned, just like she’d always believed he would, and now she was drowning in joy and hope and _him_. 

His lips were soft, the bottom one slightly bloodied. She didn’t mind. 

When he raised his head and smiled at her, smiled for the very first time at her, she knew she had been wrong earlier. This, _this_ was the most stunning thing she had ever seen. Her very soul ached, and she wondered how a person could be this happy.

At least for the next heartbeat. 

And then he fell. 

Panicked now, she rested her hand on his cheek, willed him to stay. 

“Don’t you _dare_ ,” she hissed at him. “You promised me!” 

The bond started to fray. 

Ignoring the silent screaming of her heart, she pressed her other hand to his chest. Tried to gather her focus, as hot tears gathered in her eyes. 

This was not happening. He did not get to find her just to leave her behind. He did not get to leave her alone. Not again. 

The Force wrapped around them both, and she directed it to her will. Her own life force, golden and shimmering where she could sense it, slowly drifted between them. She pushed harder with her mind, and felt the second the small spark that was left in him catch. And then it ignited. 

With unbroken concentration, she gave as much as she could without irreparable damage to herself. 

Beneath her palms, Ben’s eyes opened, dark and fathomless. 

She fought the urge to slap him. 

He blinked, looked vaguely surprised to see her. 

Without warning, she collapsed next to him, only then realizing how badly she was shaking, how tired she was, how much dragging him back had taken out of her. 

“Rey,” he whispered, and she felt him move, felt him reach for her hand. It cost him a lot. He had perhaps half of the life force he should, as did she. 

But they were alive. 

He did not get to leave her. 

Their fingers laced together, and there they laid, heads nearly touching as they absently stared at the spangled sky above them.

No one spoke. 

Later, when she had the energy, she was going to yell at him. For now, she would be content to just know he was there. 

_Be with me._

Well. He was. 

Eventually, he propped himself up on one elbow to look down at her. “We should leave.” 

This was undoubtedly true. Even if the threat was gone, this place would never feel anything less than utterly menacing. 

She nodded, and he squeezed her hand. 

Standing was a trial. Leaving the cathedral was torture. 

They leaned on one another, stopping frequently to breathe. She was drenched in sweat by the time the X-Wing and TIE fighters came into view. Beneath her fingers, she could feel Ben’s muscles trembling. 

And his determination. It mirrored her own. 

They were making it out of here. They had come so far, too far to give up now.

“Do you think you can fly?” he asked. They were sitting on the ground again, her head against his shoulder. 

The path away from Exegol was not an easy one, even when she was at her best. 

“What choice do I have?” she asked. “Can _you_?” 

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I suppose I have to.” 

She closed her eyes. One more obstacle to get through. Just one. Just hold on until they landed safely. 

They could do this. 

_We can_ , came Ben’s voice in her mind. She felt him move, felt him brush his lips across the crown of her head. 

Oh, yes. For this, for him, she could do anything. 

Several hours later, she made radio contact with the Resistance. She’d barely identified herself when Finn’s excited shouting blared into the cockpit. A moment later, she heard Poe’s slightly calmer voice. 

“You made it out!” His happiness was obvious from lightyears away. “Finn was losing his mind for a while, telling us you were dead, but obviously he just hit his head too many times.” 

She grinned, even as the implications of that flitted through her brain. “Well, he wasn’t entirely wrong, but that’s another story. I should be touching down in another hour or so.” 

“Are you okay?” Poe asked. “I mean, obviously you’re alive, but are you okay?” 

That was a different question. “I’m…” _exhausted beyond what I thought I was physically capable of being without dying_ “…not great,” she settled for saying. “But I think I will be. Okay, I mean.” 

When Poe spoke again, she heard the leadership in his voice. Heard Leia in his voice. “We’ll be waiting for you with med droids as soon as you’ve landed.” 

There was a small pause. Then, “Finn, Poe. There’s something else you need to know.” 

The silence on the other end was utterly fraught. “Yes?” Poe finally asked. 

She took a breath. “I’m not coming back alone. Someone is with me, and I need you to promise that no one’s going to shoot him. I swear I’ll explain all of this, but I need your word.” 

“Him?” Poe asked. “Who’s-“ 

“It’s Kylo Ren.” Finn’s voice was disbelieving, and she wondered again about her first friend. Could it be? Could he really feel Ben? 

“What?” Poe demanded. “You’re bringing back Kylo Ren? And you want me to not shoot him? You’re asking a lot, Rey. Maybe too much.” 

“I didn’t bring back Kylo Ren,” she said firmly. “The man I’m bringing back is Ben Solo.” 

Another heavy pause. “Rey.” Poe’s voice was conflicted, and she suddenly remembered how close he had been with Leia. 

“Poe, please.” She gave a shaky laugh. “Also, I’m a little afraid we’re sharing a life force at the moment, so if you kill him, I rather suspect I’ll die, too.” This was…not entirely false. It was a thought that had crossed her mind, certainly. 

She heard Poe swear quietly. “Alright,” he finally said, and she closed her eyes for a second in relief. She really hadn’t had much of a Plan B. “But understand that we’re going to have a long talk when you get here.” 

“Yes,” she agreed. “It may have to be from the medical ward, but I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.” 

She ended the transmission with fingers that trembled. 

From his TIE fighter, Ben snorted over the comm link that had been open the entire time. “I suppose that could have gone worse,” he noted. 

“Yes,” she agreed. “At least they won’t kill you on sight.” 

“Definitely better than some welcomes I’ve had,” he said, and she knew he wasn’t joking.

They didn’t speak much after that, both focused on making it to their destinations without passing out at the controls. 

As promised, medical droids were waiting for them, along with Finn, Poe, and Rose. She felt the atmosphere tense as Ben landed his TIE just behind hers. 

She opened the cockpit, summoned her remaining strength, and climbed out, landing very ignobly on the grass. Her legs would’t hold her. When she looked up, the world tilted violently, darkness gathering at the corners of her vision.

The last thing she saw were Ben’s black clad legs coming into view. She tried to keep her eyes open long enough to see his face, but her sight went dark and she was plunged into deep, blissful peace.

**

When she woke, it took her a full minute to remember where she was and what had happened. She sat up in a rush, heart racing. 

She was in a large room, though it was rather empty at the moment, with screens and beds and medical equipment scattered haphazardly about. 

“Ben!” she said, eyes searching desperately. 

“Right here, sweetheart.” His voice was quiet. 

She turned. 

He was in the bed just behind hers, half sitting up. His messy hair and heavy lids told her that he had been asleep. But his smile was soft, and she grinned back. 

“What happened?” she wanted to know. 

He shrugged, looking amused. “You fainted. Your friends all looked at me like I had something to do with it.” 

Which was sort of true, but that was neither here nor there. 

“Chewie carried you in here,” he went on. “And then I made a spectacle of myself by fainting, too.” He sounded less than pleased. “I think that catches you up nicely.” 

“How are you feeling?” She was taking a mental inventory of herself. Heavy head, aching limbs. Sitting up still took far too much effort. But…but there was something different. 

Ben considered her question. “Slightly better, I think. Still far from recovered, but better. You?” 

Slowly, she nodded. “I think very much the same. Slightly better.” 

Moving with caution, he swung his legs down and stood, making sure he was balanced before he crossed to her. She saw he wasn’t blood spattered anymore, though his clothes were still the same. 

He sat on the edge of her bed, and the bond delighted in his nearness. _She_ delighted in his nearness. 

The med bay doors opened, Finn and Poe entering. Their expressions were identical as they took in the scene before them - surprised and happy that she was awake, surprised and decidedly unhappy that Ben was on her bed. 

Well, they could just deal with that, then. She scooted closer to him. 

It did not go unnoticed. 

“Glad to see you’re both up,” Poe said, an edge to his voice. “Feeling better?”

She shrugged. “I’ve felt worse.” Then she sighed. She did not need to pick a fight with her two best friends over something they did not understand. “I suppose you’d like an explanation for all of this.” 

Finn nodded slowly. “Yeah, that’d be nice,” he replied, trying and failing to sound casual. 

She gave both of them a wry smile, then exchanged a glance with Ben. 

_Tell them anything you want_ , he told her through the bond. 

“I’m trying to think of where I should begin,” she admitted. 

“Ahch To,” Ben supplied. “The first time it happened. Start there.” 

It was as good of a place as any. 

She took a deep breath. 

Finn and Poe were an excellent audience, though they did interrupt with questions rather frequently. Sometimes she even had answers for them, though more often she simply had to give her best guess. Ben could occasionally fill in gaps in their knowledge, but this was new territory for him as well. 

The longer she spoke, the easier the words came. When she was finished, having glossed over some of the more personal details, Finn and Poe stared. 

“So, wait,” Poe said, glancing at her before fixing his gaze on Ben. “ _You_ killed Snoke?” 

Ben nodded once, and she shivered slightly in remembrance. 

“And he’s like, in your head, all the time?” Finn asked her. 

“Not always, no,” she said, “but if I search for him, I can find him.” 

“Can you control it? This bond?” Poe wondered. 

“Sometimes, maybe,” Ben answered. “It can’t be switched off, but it’s getting easier to…manage.” 

“And…you died. Really, for real.” Finn was as serious as she had ever seen him. 

“I did,” she answered, and she could feel Ben’s memory of it. His grief. His devastation. Suddenly, she needed to be alone with him. Just him. 

She was saved having to construct any sort of ploy when the med droids returned to check both of their vitals, sternly telling Ben off until he retreated to his own bed, clearly hoping they would go away quicker if he humored them. 

Finn and Poe took their cue as the droids urged her to lay back down. It was easy to give in - the retelling of everything that had led to this point had left her exhausted. 

“Take it easy,” Poe said. “Get some sleep. I can’t have the star of the Resistance running around with half a life force. It’s a bad look for the victors.” 

She found a smile for him and for Finn, even as she knew the two of them would likely spend the next several hours talking about her. 

That was alright though. It _was_ rather a lot to take in at once. 

Besides, they hadn’t even threatened to kill Ben yet, which, under the circumstances, she was willing to take as a gesture of pure goodwill. 

When the droids left, she rolled to face Ben, who looked as worn out as she felt. They should sleep, and yet…

And yet she wanted to be next to him. Wanted him to wrap his arms around her. Wanted it so badly she thought she might start weeping. 

He caught her thoughts, dark eyes becoming luminous. Slowly, he waved a hand, and she started slightly as her bed began to drift towards his. 

It settled with a slight bump, their thin mattresses now flush. 

Eyes half closed, he reached out, gathered her close. Gratefully, she curled into his chest, one palm pressed against his heartbeat. And, oh, how she wanted to stay awake, to remember every second of this. The warmth of his skin, the feel of his fingers carding through her hair. 

But she just couldn’t. 

She felt him kiss her temple, and she swore he whispered something, but she was already gone. 


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there! Thank you to everyone who took the time to leave comments or kudos. You're amazing and I adore you!

He woke without opening his eyes. There was something…something different that he couldn’t quite remember…

He had been having such a _vivid_ dream. Rey and the emperor and death and the feeling of soft lips pressed to his. 

Perfect.

Just what he needed - more well constructed fantasies about her to continue to ruin his psyche. 

With a sigh, he tried to stretch, but found his movements were rather impeded. His eyes opened. Landed on messy brown hair and slightly parted lips.

Reality struck with the force of lightning. 

A million thoughts raced through his mind, most of them wildly chaotic, but the critical point was that _she was real_. She was in sound asleep in his arms, her legs tangled with his, her head on his chest. 

Compulsively, he looked at her face again, the sharp cheekbones and delicate eyebrows. 

Something that felt suspiciously like happiness bubbled in his chest and he blinked several times in rapid succession. 

It had all happened, then. All of it. The dark and the light and the…dying. And the coming back. To her. 

And also to a Resistance base, but that was an entirely different line of thought. 

Very slowly, he rolled to his side, Rey’s head coming to rest in the crook of his arm. She frowned slightly at the movement, but settled again when he ran his hand down her back. 

_You’re not alone_. 

So he had told her, over a year ago. 

_Neither are you_. 

Such a declaration, and from a girl that had tried very hard to kill him a short while earlier. But she had meant it, meant it in an entirely simple, straightforward manner. Rey had seen the world in stark black and white then. He thought there was now much more gray involved. 

For himself, everything had always been gray. Two sides to every story. Two faces to every person. 

Including himself. 

Especially himself. 

Rey curled closer, still asleep, and his lips turned up. She was the only person that had ever seen him. The only person who had ever known him. The only person that he had ever chosen to let in. 

He had absolutely no idea of what would happen now. 

The Resistance hadn’t executed him yet, though he was certain it was merely loyalty to Rey that prevented it. The war was coming to an abrupt end. Decisions would need to be made, governments would need to be set up. 

He didn’t deserve to hope, but he found he did. Hoped that in all of this, someone might see fit to let him slip quietly away. Perhaps, if he was very, very lucky, Rey might slip away with him. 

They hadn’t talked about any of it. When would they have had time? He realized he didn’t even know the first thing about what she wanted. Was it him? Did she want a life with him? Or just to save him? 

A dark tendril of doubt crept up his spine. 

He was very familiar with doubt. 

And regret and recrimination and self loathing and anger and darkness.

What he did not have much experience with was hope. And peace. And light. And the warmth of the woman he adored in his arms. 

When he looked down at her again, it was to find that her eyes were open. He smiled, thumb coming up to trace the edge of her jaw. She grinned sleepily back, fingers wrapping around his wrist. 

“Good morning,” she whispered, and he was visited forcefully by the conviction that this was what he wanted to wake up to every morning for however much time he had left. 

“Good morning,” he echoed, dipping his head and pressing a feather-light kiss on her lips. 

Her smile widened, and some of his doubt slackened. 

“How are you feeling?” he asked, watching in fascination as she stretched. 

“Tired,” she eventually decided. “Still. But better than yesterday.” 

Yes, yesterday had been…trying. 

“Good,” he murmured. He didn’t know how this life force thing worked, not really. But judging by empirical evidence, all they needed was time. 

He tucked her back into his embrace, and the bond between them sighed in contentment.That was another thing that he didn’t understand enough about - dyads. So many questions, so few that he could look to for answers. 

But his answers would wait - _everything_ would wait. The only thing that truly mattered now was that her hair was tickling his chin and that her fingers were absently tracing his ribs. 

Their moment of solace was predictably broken by the med droids, coming to take vitals and do exams. He was informed that it was afternoon, and he blinked a bit in surprise. They had slept a very long time. 

Several hours later, he was trying to convince himself that he was capable of visiting his mother’s empty rooms. She wasn’t there, obviously, to judge or yell or condemn or stroke his hair as he threw himself at her feet and begged forgiveness.

Which she would have granted. 

That much he was able to admit. 

He wasted a moment wishing Rey was with him, but she had gone with Poe and Finn to “discuss some things,” and he had tried to not be jealous. She owed him absolutely nothing, and if she chose to abscond with one of them - or, hell, _both_ of them - he didn’t have the right to protest.

_Are you alright?_

Damn. He hadn’t meant for her to get a reading on his inner turmoil, but she clearly had. 

_Yes. Just…_

Just what? What could he possibly say that would make her think everything was fine? He wouldn’t lie to her. 

Just going to visit my dead mother’s room? Just trying to deal with some wild jealousy because there’s no way you’ll stay with me? 

Annoyed with himself, he settled for sending her a picture of Leia’s door. 

_Oh._ A pause. _Do you want me to come with you?_

_Yes. But I need to do this alone._

In another second, he could feel an echo of her warmth through the bond, her support and comfort wrapping around him. 

He took a deep breath and pushed open the door. 

He wasn’t sure what to expect, but it wasn’t what he found. Everything here was utterly bereft of anything marking it as belonging to one of the most extraordinary women the galaxy had ever seen. 

A bed, plain and utilitarian. Hard floors. A small table with a map and an old data pad. 

At…at home, Leia had always decorated with bold accents and unexpected swaths of color. It was all the epitome of class, of course, but it felt vibrant. Just like she did.

Just like she had. 

Lost in memory, he sat down, eyes not seeing the bare walls that had seen her end, but instead, seeing the house on Chandrila, the apartment in Hosnia. The secret smile they would share sometimes, hiding a joke from his father. The way she would drop her case full of bills and notes and proposals onto the floor and sweep him in for a hug at the end of a long day. Hot, sunny days by the sea where she had patiently taught him to swim and to look for shells. 

He was an unimaginable bastard for breaking her heart.

And yet, she had never given up on him. Even at the end, even after he had…

In his mind, he saw Starkiller and a desolate walkway. 

With a monstrous effort, he shut that door. He simply _could not_. Not now. The guilt would choke him, drown him. He should let it, but he was too much of a coward.

When Rey came looking for him, it was dark. He hadn’t noticed. 

Nor had he noticed the tears that were coursing down his face until she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled him close. Gratefully, he rested his head against her chest, loosely linking his hands at the small of her back. 

“I don’t know what I expected to find here,” he whispered, voice muffled.

She said nothing, just winnowed her fingers into his hair in a gesture that made him want to fall on his knees in front of her. There was nothing but affection in her touch, and stars, he was starved for it. 

Had been starved for years. 

Later, back in the med bay, Rey curled against him once more, he remembered to ask about her conversation with her friends. 

She shrugged, her back to his front, hair completely down. He had never seen it like that before, and he absently pressed his lips to it as she spoke. 

“I think they want to make sure I’m not under any sort of duress or that you haven’t Jedi mind tricked me,” she said. 

He felt a thread of anger shiver through him, but forced himself to remember that these people - none of them - knew him at all. And he supposed he should be grateful that they cared enough about Rey to ask. 

Deliberately, he took a calming breath. She could feel his shuttered agitation and slipped her fingers between his. 

“And we talked about what happens now.” 

That was quite a heavy statement. 

He urged her to turn, to let him see her face. She complied, and he studied her face. She didn’t seem on edge, so he hoped that meant no one had decided to execute him or exile him on Hoth or somewhere similar. 

No, Rey had fought for him. 

Come to that, she had been fighting for him since the beginning. 

And he did not deserve her, even a little. 

“I think we’ve come to an arrangement,” she said. “I came to find you to talk about it, but…” 

He brushed that aside. “And?” 

She took a breath. “Poe says that the fact you killed Snoke weighs heavily in your favor. If you’re willing to tell the Resistance about any sort of hidden bases or other useful information, he’s willing to agree you’ve performed a vital function and even classify you as a double agent.” 

“Meaning?” 

“Meaning amnesty, essentially.” 

He thought for just a moment. To be honest, he really and truly did not care about what happened to the First Order or New Order or whatever the hell they decided to call themselves. He didn’t particularly care about the New Republic, either. 

The only thing that mattered was Rey. 

“Alright,” he said, and relief washed over her. He nearly chuckled. Did she think he wouldn’t do anything if it let him stay by her side? Did she not realize he had no pride when it came to her? 

Smiling, he caught her lips. He meant to be chaste, but in the next heartbeat, Rey had a hand in his hair, pulling him into her. Desire flared, sharp and sudden, and he smothered a groan. 

Her response, the confirmation that she wanted him, at least in this moment, was nearly his undoing. 

She was utterly inexperienced, and he tried to remember that as he gently parted her lips with his own, but her…enthusiasm more than compensated. Besides, as he was discovering, she was a very quick learner. 

Possibly too quick, he amended, as he felt the first slide of her tongue against his. He was emotionally ragged, his self-control exhausted. Without thought, he rolled until he was above her, one hand bracing himself on the pillow beside her head, the other cupping her face. 

And then he kissed her like he’d dreamed about doing. Deeply, thoroughly, trying to show her all the things he couldn’t put into words she would understand. 

But she certainly understood this. 

Her arms were around his neck, holding him to her. She didn’t need to worry - he wasn’t going anywhere. 

Restless beneath him, Rey shifted abruptly, and he found himself between her parted thighs, one of her legs hooked around his ankle. 

Her heat, even through layers of clothing, scorched him, and he lifted his mouth from hers only to trail shaky kisses down her neck. Her whimpering intake of breath nearly ruined him. 

He needed to stop this. They were going too fast, much too fast. 

She moved her hips, and his brain promptly shut down. 

When he came back to himself, and to _where they were_ , he frantically tried to gather his control. One of them needed some self-restraint, and it was clearly not going to be Rey. Not that he was complaining about it. 

At all. 

In fact, he imagined in the future that would be one of her qualities he loved the most. 

But they did need to stop. The very last thing he wanted was for there to be any sort of regret on her part. The aftermath of surviving a battle was heady, and it felt like they had fought several wars all on their own. And this, between them, was new and bright and intoxicating as well. 

No, he wanted no regrets when she’d had time to think, to process and come to terms with it all. 

He allowed himself to rock against her gently, just once, enthralled with how color bloomed in her cheeks, before flipping to his back, putting some unwelcome but necessary space between their overheated bodies. 

He was breathing heavily. 

Eyes closed, he sought Rey through the bond, and was dismayed by what he found. She was…aching. 

Well, so was he. Fiercely so. 

But there was also uncertainty and something that felt like embarrassment. He was right, then, to stop what had been happening. He searched a little deeper. 

And then swore at himself. 

She thought he’d rejected her. 

And she was ashamed. 

He hated himself frequently, but the level of loathing he felt now was severe. 

“Rey,” he breathed, pulling her back into his arms. She was stiff outwardly, tremulous beneath. “Sweetheart,” he whispered to her hair, “don’t think for a second that I don’t want you. I do, very, very badly.” 

She couldn’t ask the question aloud, but he heard it through the bond. 

_Then why?_

He smiled affectionately. “I thought I was being noble,” he told her. “This is all so new, and I just…I wanted to make sure that _you_ were sure. That this wouldn’t be a regret.” 

And then he laughed out loud as he felt her annoyance. 

“We’re moving awfully fast,” he said. 

“I suppose,” she finally muttered, with grudging acceptance, and he chuckled again, gently maneuvering so he could hold her better. 

Although she tried to hide it, he could still feel her lingering pain from what she had perceived to be his rejection. 

“Rey,” he said, firmly, tipping her chin up so she had to meet his eyes. “I have done very little right in my life, and I am determined to do this, _us_ , right.” 

Her expression softened when he’d said _us_ , and in another second, she’d offered him a smile. 

He kissed her again, tenderly, before she sighed and laid her head back on his chest. 

Tomorrow, he promised himself, tomorrow he would start making a plan. Against all odds, it looked as though he was going to get out of this with his life, his freedom, and the woman he loved. 

_Never tell me the odds_. 

He heard his father’s voice as clearly as if he had been in the room. It didn’t bring pain, not this time, only a sense of suddenly shared understanding. He smiled a little to himself, more his father’s son in that moment than he had ever been in his life. 

Rey pressed a kiss against his heart, and he closed his eyes. 

He fell asleep with the notion that here was solace. Peace. His own personal haven. 

His rest was undisturbed for hours. 

And then the nightmares started. 


End file.
